


Awake

by oleanderedits



Series: A [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Groundhog Day Setup, Repeating Events, Time Loop, Time Travel, redo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-23 12:27:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 13,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4876846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oleanderedits/pseuds/oleanderedits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been almost two years since the day Rick Grimes rode into their lives on a horse like a cowboy out of the old west. But now they're back in that camp, repeating that day over and over like a night terror. Only when they realize the others are doing the same do they figure out it's more than a dream. Somehow they're getting a second chance. If they can make it 'stick'.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Daryl

Daryl was the first to 'wake up' near as he could tell. Based on how many times he remembered waking up and how many times the others eventually did.

The first time he did, he thought he was dreaming. How could he think otherwise? Nearly two years had passed since the day he kept reliving. It was just a dream. Had to be one. A terrible, horrible, reminder of all he'd lost (all he'd gained) since that one day changed everything for the group. For his family.

He knew it had to be a dream. A walk through his memories that he hadn't realized were still so sharply in focus. But still, it was a dream. And dreams, if you recognized them for what they were, could be controlled. Things didn't have to go down the way they did while he was dreaming. He could pretend he was a better man than he was then. He could stop his brother from going on the stupid trip into town. He could admit he liked the group and didn't want any of them dead.

It would hurt when he woke up. There'd be an ache in his chest he wouldn't know how to deal with, not really. But he didn't get good dreams that often. Dreams of his brother still alive, not losing his hand. Dreams of how things could have gone down if he'd just let himself be himself sooner. If he'd just trusted the others and let himself  _care_ sooner.

He recognized the day almost as soon as his eyes opened and he found himself staring at the roof of his tent. The sun was just barely coming over the horizon and he'd intended to head out on the hunt again. Maybe try and track one of those deer he spotted a game trail for a couple days back. Deer would be more welcome than squirrel. Not that anyone really complained about squirrel anymore since fresh meat was fresh meat.

But he didn't have to do that. He didn't have to relive himself heading out before the big group got together and went to the city. He didn't have to relive the long, quiet days that led up to him coming back and Rick telling him Merle was handcuffed to a roof. It was his dream. He could do what he wanted.

So when he got up, he got up smiling. His hair being short again threw him for a loop and he nearly didn't recognize his own face in the mirror, it was so free of wrinkles and worry lines. And his eyes weren't nearly as hollow as they'd become from all the loss and lack of proper eating.

He didn't realize he was laughing about until Merle shouted at him from outside, hitting the tent with one hand as he passed, “What the hell's so fucking funny?”

“Me!” Daryl heard himself yell back, still laughing. And then he was pushing out of the tent, grin on his face a mile wide and he didn't care that he was making so much noise the whole camp was starting to wake from it. It didn't matter that tears were coming now while his laugh turned more than a little hysterical.

Merle was right there. Alive. Both hands right where they should be. Staring at him like he'd gone nutter. But this was a dream, so it didn't matter. It didn't matter that half the camp was watching him now, freaked out at his own freak out. It didn't matter that they could see him bawling like a child. He didn't care because Merle was there. Merle was  _alive_ .

And Merle was worried. He was looking at him like he'd suddenly grown a second head. This sort of display, all public and over-emotional, wasn't something a Dixon did. Specially not in front of each other. Even more especially in front of people who weren't family. Only they were family. To Daryl, at least. And what the hell, it was a dream.

Daryl paced a circle for a second or three, hands going to his face to wipe the tears away. But the laughter didn't fade. It didn't stop until he'd thrown himself at his brother, arms folding around his shoulders and his head tucked in. And then the laughter was washed away by his sobs. Even knowing it was a dream, he couldn't help himself. Not on this. Not with Merle right there, alive and warm in his arms.

“ Daryl?” Merle was too thrown for a loop to be able to do much more than question. His voice gone soft, scared, “Baby brother? What's wrong? Baby brother?”

Daryl's head shook in the crook of his brother's shoulder, voice choked by his sobs. The dream was already too much, too real. Merle was so very  _real_ in his arms. He wanted the torment to end, but he didn't want to wake up, either. His brother was there. He was  _there_ .

Merle held him, disorientated by it all. Practically the whole camp was watching now. Eying the two of them as Daryl broke down in his arms and the rose up to give every single nosy busybody a perfect view of their sudden emotional outpouring.

It took twenty minutes before Daryl was willing to pull away. And when he did, he couldn't stop smiling. “You're alive. You're fucking alive.”

Merle shook his head, brows scrunched, “Yeah. I'm alive. That what this is about? You have a bad dream or something?”

“ Something... yeah. Something sounds about right. Good lord, Merle! You're alive,” He laughed and let out a loud 'whoop' as he backed up to start pacing again, eyes on his brother. “You're fucking alive and good lord!  _Good fucking lord_ !”

“ Yeah. I'm alive. And so are you,” his brother drawled out, slow and wary. He clearly didn't like wherever this was going. “What the hell has gotten into you, boy? You turnin' into a woman on me?”

“ Fuck you!” Daryl continued to laugh. Like it was all one big joke. And it was. His own mind making a fool of him. He couldn't care less. He stuck his tongue out, nose crinkling, and pushed the absurdity further. “And what if I was? What if I did turn into a woman on you? What you gonna do about it?”

That was when Merle gave up on figuring anything out. He rolled his eyes and shook his head, dismissing Daryl's outburst before turning his attention to the rest of the camp. To all the people watching. He glowered, “What're you looking at? Mind your own damn business!”

“ Shut up, Merle!” Daryl barked, slapping his brother on the shoulder and jogging off toward the RV before Merle could process what had just happened.

He stopped short at where Carol was gathering the laundry baskets and pulled her into a hug that had her gasping in shock and breathing heavily in sheer panic once he let her go. Glenn was next to be grabbed and held on for dear life. Panicked eyes searched out Shane and Dale and he mouthed 'help me' before Daryl let him go with a laugh. His hat was flipped off as he stumbled back. Daryl raised his arms and let out another loud 'whoo'.

Shane shared a bewildered shrug with Lori, who was silently asking if she needed to keep Carl back and safe. Andrea was laughing in confusion with Amy. Things were all right with the world even if Merle was staring at him like he'd done lost his mind.

And everything in his dream would have been fine if his subconscious hadn't conjured up Ed Peletier hurrying over to Carol and grabbing her arm. His angry hiss and her soft yelp of terror snapped Daryl out of his stupor of joy. Daryl didn't think, didn't hesitate. He'd run over and punched Ed in the jaw before he even realized what he was doing.

“ Don't you fucking touch her!” the words rang out louder than his laughter had as he straddled Ed. The man was on the ground from that one punch, dazed. “You touch her again, you're dead! You hear me?” Daryl moved so he could get a good kick in Ed's side, “You fucking hear me you asshole?”

He hadn't done any real damage (yet) but backed off as Carol stumbled over, sobbing with worry over her bastard of a husband. It hurt to see her like that. To remember what she used to be like. The Carol he knew was stronger than the one in his dream. She wouldn't take shit or cry over some fucker that left new bruises on her almost every day. She'd come a long way in two years. They all had.

“ Give them space,” Shane was on him, grabbing his arm and pulling him away, “Come on, man. Back off.”

Daryl snapped his head around, meeting Shane's eyes and the man let him go, hands lifting in surrender. He nodded, rubbed his head, then murmured in a voice meant to placate, “No one's mad at you for it. Most of us have wanted to do that. But you can't just do something like that. Could bring more harm to Carol and her little girl if he decides to take it out her.”

“ So we don't let 'im,” he answered hand going to his belt, where his skinning knife sat.

“ Easy!” Shane reached out in that way Rick would, one hand forward, the other hovering at his side in case he needed to go for his gun. It wasn't right to see Shane doing it.

It wasn't right. And for a second, he forgot what day he was remembering. It shouldn't have mattered. It was his dream. Rick could be there if he wanted him to, right? “Where's Rick?”

Shane's eyes widened. His jaw worked for a minute. And then he shook his head. “There's no one named Rick here, Daryl. I don't know who you're looking-”

“ Yes you do!” he said back, voice raised. “Rick! Rick Grimes! Your partner! Carl's dad! Where is he? Where's Rick?!”

Daryl thought he had control of the dream right until that point. He really did. But the way Shane looked at him, the sheer state of nearly blank pain and confusion on the man's face was enough to make Daryl start questioning himself. He'd never seen Shane so hurt.

And when the man answered, there was a crack in it Daryl had only heard once before, on the farm, “Rick's dead. How do you... how do you know about him?”

 


	2. Carol

Carol was the second to 'wake up'. She, too, thought it was a dream. And she didn't question it until the third time she'd had it. How inconsistent the reactions were. She tempered herself after that, was more careful. But her first time?

Her first time, she _reveled_ in the freedom she had.

She woke up before the sun rose, her thoughts on all the things she had to get done before Ed pulled himself out of sleep. It was a second of disorientation before she stopped herself and looked over at her sleeping husband. A man who, by all rights, should be dead. And he would be. She could make sure of that.

With a smile, she woke Sophia – precious, wonderful, Sophia – and urged her out of the tent to get breakfast started without her. She then moved quietly over to the cutlery set and pulled out her best kitchen knife. It was admired for a moment. Not long, because Ed was shifting and turning in his sleep.

And then the knife was in his throat, pushed up beneath his jaw into his brain. He wouldn't rise, he wouldn't be a threat. He would just be dead.

She patted him on the head and left the knife where it was so it would plug up the wound while she got her and Sophia's things together. Once she had them packed and outside, she pulled the knife out, cleaned it off on his shirt, and left. She made sure to zip the tent securely shut before calling Sophia over to help her move everything.

“Are we leaving?” Sophia asked and Carol shook her head.

“Just your father, dear,” she answered with a proud intake of breath, her hand in her daughter's golden hair. She looked like an angel. “We're going to see if Mr. Dixon and his brother, Daryl, will let us stay with them.”

Sophia gave her a look like she was crazy, and Carol just gave her a reassuring hug, “Don't worry. They're good men. Better than your father ever was.”

Sophia continued to look at her askance, but she knew her mother would take her away from her father every so often. Try to get away. She was used to it. She was just used to going to shelters for a couple days, not the tents of the scariest two men in camp.

But Carol wasn't scared of them. She wasn't timid when she approached as Merle dug into his bags for something and Daryl was getting ready to head out on his hunt. She marched right up to them and waved hello like it was something she did every day.

"Mr. Dixon," she called out to Merle, rather than Daryl. Daryl had a hunt to go on. No need to bother him. He still looked up in surprise at her, same as his brother.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Mr. Dixon," she said once she was sure she had Merle's attention. "But I'd like to ask your permission for my daughter and I to share your camp from now on. We don't have a tent, but with the group going into town today, I'm sure it won't be hard to find a new one."

Merle looked at her like she was crazy, lips twitching into a mocking smile as he looked over at Daryl. Daryl shrugged. He didn't know what was going on any more than Merle did.

Carol continued on before they had a chance to talk back, "The thing is, my husband, Ed, he's abusive. Was abusive. And he's not going to be a problem anymore, not on that end, but I'd feel much safer if Sophia and I were staying with you. You and Daryl, both. You're both good men and I know you'll do right by us for as long as we share the same road. Now, Sophia and I won't be no trouble. We'll keep to ourselves, and keep out of your hair. I can do your laundry same as I do for the rest of the camp and Sophia's a good, fast learner. If you're willing to teach her, I'm sure she'd pick up on skinning anything you bring in without issue. And, of course, I'd cook for you. An even trade of resources."

It was Merle she kept looking to. Even in a dream, she knew Daryl would go along with Merle's judgement first. He loved his brother too much not to try and keep things civil between them. He wanted his brother to stay. 

But it was Daryl who spoke up while Merle stared at her, trying to work through the sudden proposal, "Yeah. Sure. I got no problem with that. Bout time we had a meal better 'n Merle's cookin'."

"My cookin's just fine," Merle snapped, walking over and pushing on Daryl's shoulder while Daryl laughed it off and headed into the woods. He clearly didn't like Daryl putting him on the spot like that and probably would have changed their answer... if it wasn't for the mention of abuse. He'd been ignoring it as best he could, same as the rest of the camp. But she'd put him on the spot and he didn't like the idea of any woman getting hit. Sat wrong with him.

"I'm supposed to go with the group inta Atlanta today," he finally said, scratching at his chin. "You uh... you don't mess with my stuff. My bike or anything on it. You don't touch any of my brother's things 'til we decide what you can touch. And your kid mind's her own business, too. Them's the rules."

"Of course," Carol agreed easily, rubbing Sophia's shoulder as she felt her daughter tense up.

Merle licked his lips, then nodded, "You can put your shit in the truck until you have a tent."

Carol let go of Sophia and stepped forward, putting a hand on Merle's arm to balance herself as she leaned up on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on his cheek, "Thank you."

And then she moving off like it hadn't happened. Hustling Sophia to get their things put neatly in the truck bed and then shoo her off to go play with Carl while she went to see about chores for the day.

No one knew Ed was dead until the campfire that night when Carol and Sophia joined Rick and the others at their fire. Lori was pleased to see her and Shane surprised. Jacqui and Andrea were the ones to broach the subject. Cautiously, so cautiously. Asking if they were sure they wanted to. If it would be alright. If Ed would object.

Their concern was endearing, but Carol just shook her head, hugged her daughter close, and smiled, “Ed won't bother us anymore. I killed him this morning.”


	3. Carl and Glenn

Carl was the fourth to 'wake up'. Glenn was the third. Neither of them realized it was more than a dream they just kept going through until the day Glenn noticed Carl was different.

Merle got left on the roof as he always did. Glenn enjoyed the car ride back after being badass enough to suggest pulling the geeks away from the tank and the gun bag and having someone – Andrea because she was fast – run in a grab them before getting out on the truck. Glenn had the sirens blasting and was making so much noise there was no way the walkers could resist the bait. The one and only time he'd actually enjoyed that job because it came with a cool ass car.

When he got back with Rick, Rick ran to Carl and Lori like he always did. Carl hugged him, Lori hugged him. But then Carl had Rick's gun and was holding it like he knew what he was doing. The whole camp froze. Even Glenn froze. That wasn't the Carl of back then. It was the Carl he knew after nearly two years of surviving. A Carl that could hold a gun and use a knife.

Carl backed up until there was no one behind him and everyone in front of him. And then the turned to point the gun at Glenn. Glenn felt like he'd been punched in the gut at the threat. What kind of messed up head did he have that he'd dream this?

But it wasn't just Carl threatening his life, it was Carl giving orders. Carl telling him to get Dale's bolt cutters. Carl firing a warning shot at Shane's feet to let everyone know he was serious. Carl telling them they were going back for-

“Merle?” Glenn stopped halfway back to the truck with the bolt cutters held loosely in his hands. Carl waiting for him where no one else could sneak up on him. This wasn't how the day went. T-Dog didn't tell them about Merle being alive until after night had fallen. They were all supposed to think Merle was walker food now.

“Yeah. We're getting him back. You and me,” Carl said, voice steady. Only loud enough for Glenn to hear while he kept his gaze on his dad and mom and Shane. “And he's going to help us get the gun bag Dad dropped.”

Glenn stared for a long moment before nodding slowly and moving again. He was more surprised his subconscious wanted to save Merle via Carl than he was that Carl knew about the dropped gun bag. Something passed between them at that moment, though. Because Carl didn't move to stay ahead of him, he shifted to the side so Glenn could pass. And Glenn, when he turned to look back at Rick (Rick who was begging him with his eyes to grab Carl and get that gun out of his hand), he didn't bother to try.

He turned his back on Rick and climbed in the truck. He turned it around while Carl held the camp hostage. He got it in position and honked his horn and Carl calmly, so calmly, put the gun in the back of his pants as he turned and climbed in the back. He was pulling down the door as Glenn floored it and practically the entire camp rushed forward, trying to get to them before they were too far to easily follow.

“They're going to take the other cars,” Glenn said, already trying to figure out how to lose them. “If you were taller you could drive this as a decoy while I got into the city.”

Carl moved across the back of the van and slid into the passenger seat, pulling on his seatbelt. He leaned out to the side and watched the mirror. “Yeah. But I couldn't justify giving all the other cars a flat. We're going to need them.”

Glenn nodded. He'd been thinking much the same thing. The two had worked together as team long enough they could probably have done this without talking once they were on the same page. But Glenn was weirded out enough by his own dream that, even though he was obviously going with Carl's plan, he needed to talk it out.

“Why are we going back for him?” He finally asked as Shane's jeep came into view in the driver's side mirror.

Carl frowned, having seen it too, and pointed to one of the turn offs ahead, “Could we lose them there?”

“No. The shortest way to the park entrance is the one we're taking.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah. If we want to lose them, we'll have to do it closer to the city.”

“Or we could make them help us once we're out there.”

Glenn didn't answer right away, just nodded. By the time they got down there, it would either be them heading back, or them getting Merle and spending the night in the city. Six of one, half dozen of the other, risk wise.

“Okay, so we lead them in and make them help us,” he decided as he slowed down for a tricky turn. “That still doesn't answer why we're going back for Merle _right now._ ”

Carl looked down at his lap, then at the mirror. With a sigh, he said, “I don't know if you'll understand, but Daryl needs him. And even if this isn't real, I don't want to wake up knowing I chose to leave his brother behind. We don't leave our people behind.”

Glenn's mouth went dry at that. His dream was getting really meta on his ass and he wasn't sure he liked it. Wasn't sure what it meant. He certainly didn't have any guilt about Merle being left behind. After what the asshole did to him at Woodbury, what he allowed to almost happen to Maggie... Glenn couldn't forgive him. Glenn hated him. But Glenn didn't hate Daryl. It was for Daryl that he'd tolerated Merle staying at the prison.

And it was for Daryl that Merle had gone off and gotten himself killed trying to take out the Governor's men.

Okay, so maybe he could feel guilty about leaving the man handcuffed to the roof over and over again. Merle had the potential to do good. When it came to his brother, at least.

“Okay,” he said as they finally pulled out of the camp and onto the highway. The road was open to them now. To them and Shane and Rick and whoever else might have thrown themselves into that jeep. “Okay. We get in where I usually do and we head into the city. We stay far enough ahead that they have to stay quiet and follow if they want any chance at us. You have to go where I say and move when I say, though. I can keep us ahead of them, but only if you do exactly what I say.”

Carl grinned at him and nodded, “I can do that.”

They fell asleep on the roof, Merle alive and with both hands. But they didn't wake up on the roof. They woke up back in their tents. Just like they always did.

The only difference was that this time they sought each other out with silent, questioning eyes. They shared a bitter smile that only they could understand before the camp broke into a flurry of movement and noise. They'd try again today. Maybe a different plan would work.


	4. Daryl and Glenn

Glenn realized there was something more than dreaming going on when he woke up and Carl didn't share his look over breakfast. It was Daryl, instead, that changed his actions. He declared very loudly that he wasn't going hunting. He'd be joining the group going into Atlanta.

Shane tried to argue with him. Merle, too. Shane because the group was already big and having both Dixon brothers on it seemed like a bad idea to him. Merle because he thought his brother didn't trust him.

“I don't want you dead!” Daryl exploded, getting right in his brother's face, and making the rest of the camp go quiet. Daryl never yelled like that at his brother. Daryl talked shit, but he didn't do a lot of real back talk to his brother. Merle was the one in charge of their family.

“I can't handle you dying on me! Not again!” the words choked out with tears and for the first time – for most of them but not Glenn – the camp saw Daryl at a breaking point. He ignored the looks, and grabbed Merle by the collar, pulling him into a hug. “I can't do it. I can't. You can't die on me. I need you.”

Merle was the one left flustered and unsure. Standing there with his mouth agape while his brother clung to him, being more emotional than he'd ever known him to be in view of anyone not family. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't bring himself to push Daryl away, but he couldn't have people thinking they were a couple of pussies, either.

Seeing Daryl like that decided things for Glenn. He stepped forward and put a hand on Daryl's shoulder to get his attention. Merle almost swung at him, but Daryl was fast, holding his brother's arm down as he looked to Glenn.

“You can come,” Glenn said, smiling and nodding. “Both of you. Bring your crossbow. We'll probably need it.”

Daryl smiled that soft smile Glenn knew and reached out to pat him on the shoulder. Glenn reciprocated before turning and heading toward the car they were taking in, “Get whatever you're bringing. We leave in five. Stragglers stay in the camp.”

Merle pushed Daryl away, growled under his breath about 'going native' and Daryl just smirked at him. He didn't try to push back. He'd already won. All he needed was his crossbow and they'd be good.

T-Dog made to get in the passenger seat, but Glenn stopped him as the Dixon brothers joined them, “No. I get shotgun.”

“Then who's driving?” Andrea asked, halfway into the back seat.

“Daryl,” Glenn answered as if it were obvious. To him it was, of course. Him and Daryl, that's how they rode. Daryl at the wheel and Glenn ready to act. It wasn't a dig at his own driving skills. It was just the way things had settled while they were at the prison. Before the Governor's return. It was their way.

He ignored the confusion in T-Dog's eyes, the hurt at knowing he was going to have to squeeze in next to Merle of all people. They were taking a station wagon, but it was still going to be a tight fit. Daryl, for his part, just nodded and jogged over to take his spot.

The drive in was filled with Merle talking shit and mostly Daryl barking 'Shut up, Merle' back at him. Though there was a moment of stunned silence that followed a particularly nasty exhange.

Merle was insinuating that 'Darleena' had a case of yellow fever and was trying to impress his boyfriend. Daryl continued his chorus of 'Shut up, Merle', but Merle leaned forward and poked Glenn's shoulder, “That's what's going on, isn't it? You done cut my brother's balls off, didn't you chinaman?”

“He's Korean!” snapped out of Daryl as he slammed the breaks and turned around to push his brother back into his seat. Glenn smiled a bitter, but triumphant, smile. And the rest of the group just stared, eyes going between Daryl and Merle like they expected the two to start wrestling right then and there. But Merle was so shocked, he just sat back blinking. Beyond any kind of sorts as he tried to figure out what the hell was going on with his brother.

The rest of the run went about as smoothly as it could. Daryl kept Merle in line while they were on the roof. He didn't give his brother a chance to be alone long enough to pop his pills. When Rick showed up and Glenn got him to the roof, Glenn already knew the plan to get out of the city. He was ready with it and Rick smiled at him like he was the most ingenious bastard he'd ever met.

Daryl was the one that brought up the guns, crossbow over his shoulder while he paced in front of his brother, “You dropped something when that horse went down.”

“Yeah,” Rick nodded. “Bag of guns.”

“Your hat, too,” Glenn grinned, leaning back on the wall that edged the roof. He pulled his own off and held it out, “You can borrow mine until we get it.”

That had Rick and most of the group laughing, Daryl included (but not Merle, Merle wasn't a part of whatever they were sharing and he didn't like it). Rick held his hand up, shook his head, “Naw. You keep yours. Mine isn't as important as those guns.”

“So we'll get 'im on our way out,” Daryl said with a shrug. “Glenn's already gonna distract the herd down there. He can pull them away from the store and the tank. Me an' Merle, we can go in there, grab the bag, grab your hat, and hop in the van after you get the rest of 'em.”

Rick's eyebrows raised and he tilted his head in thought, looking between everyone and judging their reactions. Most of the group were nodding or shrugging. It was a sound enough plan. But still, “I don't like the idea of putting you and your brother in danger like that.”

“We need those guns,” Daryl answered, pointedly. “And me 'n Merle? We can handle a couple dozen dumb dead bastards. Long as Glenn gets their asses off us, leastways.”

Glenn shrugged when Rick and Daryl looked to him, “I can handle that. Daryl's crossbow is quiet and Merle's good with a knife. As long as they go in silent, they should be able to get in and out no problem. The two are a good team.” He paused for a second, turned to meet Daryl's eyes and smile, “I trust them with my life.”

Only Daryl knew he was really saying ' _I trust Daryl.'_.

When morning came and Glenn looked for that shared knowledge in Carl's eyes, he didn't find it. Instead, he found Daryl staring at him, jaw clenched and eyes tight. Glenn offered a smile and a nod. Daryl inclined his head back before starting in on his brother.

Neither of them could call it a dream anymore. They couldn't remember waking up.

 


	5. Carl and Carol

Carl expected Glenn to share that look with him and sometimes he did, but sometimes he didn't. The days he didn't were even more surreal because no matter how much he tried, if he didn't have Glenn's genuine cooperation, the 'kidnapping' plan never worked. And it was the only one he had open to him with how protective his mom and Shane were.

He loved his mother, but he'd forgotten how patronizing she'd been. Well, at the time she hadn't been. But after nearly two years of surviving some truly terrible shit, it sure felt that way. He could handle himself just fine now. Even if he was a lot shorter in his strange dreamworld than he was used to being. Mostly, he missed his hat.

His hands kept going to his head as if to adjust it. But it wasn't there. It was never there anymore. Not until his dad showed up with the group from Atlanta. Most days, if Glenn didn't share his look, Merle was left behind. Some days, if he did share it, Merle would still be left but Glenn was never happy those days. He would find a way to get alone with Carl and explain what went wrong. Some days, Glenn managed to make sure Merle came back. Most often he achieved that by suggesting Andrea be the one to control the handcuff keys since T-Dog had so much equipment, tools included, to carry already. Rick didn't always agree to that.

Carl was getting used to his dreams going like that. With Glenn being the only one to change his actions. But then one day it wasn't Glenn that acted different. It was Carol.

She came out of her tent with Sophia in tow, both of them with their bags packed tightly. Ed following behind them, scratching himself and not realizing anything was different until Carol led Sophia over to where Daryl and Merle had their own tent set up. He called after them, eyes narrowed before slowly starting to follow.

The others who were awake at that hour stopped what they were doing to watch. Shane was on high alert, ready to run over if something happened. His mom was already walking over to him to grab him by the arm. Carl could see her out of the corner of his eye. He moved before she could snatch him up and pull him away, ignoring her hissed 'Carl!' as he marched over to intercept Ed and stand in his way.

He stood close enough to Carol and the Dixon's to hear Carol politely asking Merle and Daryl to watch Sophia for the day. See if it would be alright if the two of them stayed with the brothers so Ed couldn't get to them. Ed could have heard it, too, if he wasn't glaring down at Carl.

He tried to sidestep and Carl stayed with him, staring up at the man definitely. Shane was already heading over, now that Carl could be in danger. But it was Carol that stopped Ed dead in his tracks when he reached out to grab Carl and push him aside.

The whole camp froze, breaths held, as Carol held her butchering knife to Ed's throat. She stared at him calmly, smile as pleasant as a Sunday get-together, “You touch him and I'll kill you, Ed.”

Carl saw Merle come up along side Carol, on her right. And Daryl came up on Carl's left. Neither of them had weapons out, but they didn't need to. Their cold stares combined with Carol's knife was enough to have Ed backing up two steps, staring at his wife like he didn't know her.

And he didn't. This wasn't the woman he married. This wasn't the meek woman he'd cowed for more than twelve years with cutting words and brutal fists. This was the Carol Carl knew. The woman who was tough as nails and wouldn't let anything stop her from protecting the people she loved. Carl smirked up at Ed, proud of Carol, though Ed didn't see it.

“You touch Sophia, you go within ten feet of her,” Carol continued in that calm voice as she lowered her knife and sheathed it cleanly into it's cloth holder along side a half-dozen other kitchen knives. “And I'll kill you. You touch anyone in this camp, Ed, and I will kill you. No one will stop me. No one loves you enough to stop me. You'll just be another death in a world that no longer cares. Sophia and I will be staying with the Dixon's from now on. They're good men. Better men than you've ever been. Now go on. Get. You want breakfast, you'll have to make it yourself.”

Ed watched her warily, and then his eyes drifted to Merle, to Daryl. The two hadn't stopped staring him down. Carl didn't wait to see what Ed would pull, if he tried to pull anything. He turned around and took Carol's hand, leading her back to where Sophia sat waiting on the tailgate of the Dixon's truck.

Carol looked down at him, squeezed his hand, and smiled, “That was brave of you, Carl. Thank you.”

“Just protecting our own,” he answered, meeting her eyes. “Same as I would for Maggie.”

Her breath hitched and there was slight widening of her eyes. He wouldn't have noticed it save that he was watching for the recognition. Carol was good at her act, though, and she laughed at him, “Maggie? Did you go and get yourself a girlfriend while no one was looking?”

He shook his head and winked at her, unable to answer before his mom was on him. Her hands pulling him close, holding him tightly and breathing in short panicked breaths while she chewed him out for being so stupid. That he could have gotten himself hurt doing that.

Carol stepped in on his behalf, waving a hand and shushing Lori, “Oh he was fine. Mr. Dixon and Daryl wouldn't have let anything happen to him.” His mother cast a baleful eye at Carol, jaw clenching, and politely reminded her that Carl was her son and she would decide what was safe for him or not. Carol kept her act up beautifully even though it was obvious – to Carl at least – that she wanted to shake some sense into Lori.

“Of course, I didn't mean to imply you didn't,” she apologized with a flustered breath, arms crossing over her chest as she feigned nerves. Like she was coming down from an adrenaline high and didn't know what to do with herself. “I just meant that Mr. Dixon and Daryl, they're good men. They've agreed to let me and Sophia stay with them. Keep us safe from Ed. Something I should have done a long time ago.”

Carl tried to push himself out of his moms arms while she turned her gaze from Carol to look for the men in question. Carl hadn't been able to see them since she descended on him and once he got some room he realized that Daryl had already left for his hunt. Merle, though. Merle was leaning against his truck, eyes tracking Ed where the man had retreated across the camp. Shane was trying to talk to him in hushed tones, but Merle just ignored him.

When Glenn called for everyone going into the city to get ready, Merle didn't go with them. He stayed and every so often reminded Sophia to stay close. That her momma didn't want her running off. Carl wasn't allowed to play with Sophia that day. But Carol let him help with lunch. And when the CB went off, Carol suggested someone go down to the highway and try to intercept the man calling in. See if they could get to him before he got into Atlanta. Warn him off since he couldn't hear them.

Shane ended up killing the idea. With the group already in Atlanta, they didn't exactly have the manpower to spare in case something happened at camp.

Carol played her act well, nodding in understanding. But she looked to Carl with an apology in her eyes. Carl shrugged and quietly murmured, “Glenn will save him. Glenn's never failed to before.”

And Glenn did save him. But the next morning, Carl was right back to where he had been before. Right back to where they all were.


	6. Four out of Five

Carol had learned what to say to Merle to get him to agree to let her and Sophia stay with them with the least amount of argument. She had learned what exact time to approach the Dixon brothers so they'd both be there and Daryl would force Merle's hand when Merle was hemming and hawing. She'd learned just how fast to walk so Ed could see them and follow her over. Ed making himself a visible threat always cut Merle's arguments down before he could voice them. She didn't know the exact history the two had with abuse, but she knew there was enough for them to be up in arms once she spelled it out what Ed did to her. What he might do to Sophia if given the chance.

Sometime Daryl would give her a look and she knew that this time around he remembered what she did. Sometimes Glenn would step in to stop Ed and she knew he was 'awake' to it all, too. Sometimes Carl would and those days were harder. It was easiest to get away with whatever it was they were doing when three of them were 'awake' together.

The day all four of them were, was a day she couldn't begin to describe. It went off so perfectly, so fluidly, that it was like being back where they should be. The four of them stepping to the same beat, working without having to ask. Just moving. Just doing.

She headed across the camp and caught Glenn's eyes. He nodded subtly and started an idle path back to his tent. Carl's eyes caught her next and he jogged over to talk about hanging out with Sophia. Carol assured him he could after they spoke to the Dixon brothers. Daryl was already standing up, crossbow hanging loosely in his left hand as he waited for them to get there. At that point Ed was making his way behind them and the rest of the camp was watching with tense shoulders and baited breath.

Glenn's path cut behind Ed's and after Ed passed, he followed, his hands almost idly drawing a machete from the holster at the base of his spine. Carol spoke to Merle while Carl took Sophia's hand and led her to the tailgate of the Dixon's truck. He kept her occupied while Daryl skirted to the side, like he was going to head off.

Ed reached out out to grab Carol and there were three weapons pointed at Ed: the knife Carol had under his chin (a small boot knife with an easier to conceal sheath), Glenn's machete (which he pressed to the back of Ed's throat, his other hand on Ed's shoulder to control his movement), and Daryl's crossbow (which had flipped up and into position so fluidly even Carol wasn't sure when it had happened). She smiled at him and took a step forward as Glenn took a step back, pulling Ed along. Daryl kept his crossbow lined up with Ed's eyes, right where the man could see it. They moved as a unit the three of them, and guided her husband across the camp to the clearing in front of the RV.

It was only then that Carol finally spoke, the onlookers too shocked to know what to do. Even Merle was left staring, unsure of his brother and how easily he'd slipped into whatever it was they were doing.

“This is your only chance to live, Ed,” Carol said firmly, her tone and unblinking gaze leaving no room for argument. “You walk away now. Away from me and away from Sophia. You walk away and you don't ever come near us again. If you don't, you will die. I will be the one to kill you. Glenn and Daryl here, they're not going to do it. They'll just make sure you can't run before I have a chance to slide this knife through your skull.”

When she stepped back and put her knife away, Daryl and Glenn stepped back, too. Glenn released Ed's shoulder and sheathed his blade while Daryl kept his crossbow leveled at Ed until both his people were far enough away that Ed couldn't jump them. Then he let it drop and spat on the ground. The three of them walked back to where Merle and Sophia waited. To where Carl waited.

Shane and Lori exchanged looks with Dale and Andrea. T-Dog's eyes followed Ed as he stormed off to his camp, muttering obscenities, before searching out Shane and Dale's. There was relief that Carol had finally stood up to Ed, but there was fear as well. The three weren't close. They hadn't spent any time together. But suddenly the were working like they'd been a team for years.

Merle had the sense to try and quietly question Daryl where no one could listen in. But Daryl kept himself close enough that Carol and Glenn could hear it. He dismissed his brother's worry and made a change of plans.

“I'll go in with that group to Atlanta. You should stay here and watch Sophia,” he said, looking over at Glenn and getting a nod.

“I think I'll go in, too,” Carol piped up, smoothing Sophia's hair down. “Mr. Dixon will keep you safe. You trust him, don't you?”

Sophia looked over at Merle, then back at her mom. She clearly didn't, but she trusted her mother and nodded anyway.

“Aw hell kid, he ain't gonna bite,” Daryl muttered with a laugh at her shyness. “Tell you a secret. Me and Merle, our daddy beat on us, too. We don't take that shit no more. And we ain't gonna let you get hurt that way neither.”

Behind him, Merle's eyes went wide. He hadn't known their dad hit Daryl. He thought it was just him because he was the one their dad always went after. He was the juvie screw up. But he couldn't admit that in front of anyone. He'd thought he'd been protecting his brother all those years. No way he could admit he hadn't known. Even if he looked stricken and sick all of a sudden.

It was then that Lori finally made her way over. She always took her time if Carl wasn't in the line of danger with Ed. She always let him spend some time with Sophia before coming to get him and talk quietly to Carol about what had happened. It was something all four of them had come to be aware of.

They'd stacked the deck in their favor without ever discussing it.

Carl smiled up at his mom, innocent and like he had nothing to do with what had happened. When she asked why he came over when he did, he told her he thought Sophia looked scared so he wanted to help her feel less so. Lori always smiled at him when he told her that. Gave him that 'my brave little boy who doesn't understand how much danger he's in' look. He acted like he didn't know what that look meant and she ruffled his hair, told him to go ask Shane for some chores.

She waited until Carl was gone to cross her arms and give a tight, uncertain look to Carol and Glenn. She tried to ignore the Dixon's entirely. And the brothers moved off so she could. Daryl had things to talk to Merle about anyway. Glenn shrugged at her look and left before she could get a word in edgewise. Carol was quick to do the same, apologizing that she had to get ready for the trip into the city. Lori was left alone, mouth hanging open, as Sophia climbed off the tailgate and went over to take Merle's hand. To stay close to him like her momma had told her too.

It was a toss up who looked more surprised at that moment: Lori for being left or Merle for having a tiny strip of a girl clinging to him like he was her personal guardian angel.

When it came time for the trip, it was just Glenn, Carol, and Daryl who ended up going. Shane hadn't liked that. Neither had the others.

“Then we're not going at all,” Glenn said all matter-of-fact, staring Shane down in a way Shane really didn't like. Shane was used to being in charge. He was used to having to bully Glenn a little into doing things his way, but he did get it done his way. It was why Glenn was taking a group at all.

“We need more supplies than three people can carry,” Dale started up, joining the negotiations. “That's the point of the group going.”

Glenn wasn't having it, though. He was standing straighter, shoulders square and arms crossed. He wasn't letting them argue. “We'll get the supplies. We know what to grab. But it's just the three of us. No one else. I'm not going risking more.”

“Look, kid, we already-”

“Hey,” Daryl's voice cut in as he came up, his brother's spare vest over his sleeveless shirt and crossbow slung from one shoulder. “Glenn knows what he's doing. He said it's the three of us, then it's the three of us.”

Shane leveled a glare at Daryl and he wasn't the only one. Dale and Andrea and even T-Dog did so.

“We'll be fine,” Carol spoke up from the side where she was leaning against the station wagon they intended to take. “We all know how to use our knives and Daryl has his crossbow. We'll be a lot safer going in small and quiet than in a big group with a lot of noisy guns.”

“Nah, nah, we said we'd go as a group,” T-Dog said, shaking his head and waving one hand. “You agreed to that.”

“And now I'm changing my mind,” Glenn met T's eyes. T was the first to look away. Glenn didn't feel very proud of that, but he wasn't going to risk lives he didn't need to. “I know the city. None of you do. You want to go in on your own, go right ahead. That's on you. But the only people I'm taking are Carol and Daryl.”

Lori came up to Shane at that point, breaking into the group, asking about Carl. It broke the tension, distracted everyone enough that by the time Shane and Dale got talking about where Carl could be the three were already in the car and leaving. Shane bit out a harsh 'god dammit' that was half-directed at them and half-directed at Lori. The cold shoulder she gave him had him rolling his eyes and following after to apologize. The rest of the group broke up to do chores around the camp or go back on watch. Wasn't like they could do anything about the trip now. The camp was later whipped into a panic because no one could find Carl.

Glenn, Carol, and Daryl were not surprised to have found him laying down in the back seat of the station wagon where he couldn't be seen as they drove away. Daryl passed him his spare gun and a buck knife while Glenn laid out the plan for the day.

“Whatever's going on, it never lasts past today. I've let events play out like they did the first time, but everything still resets,” Glenn started, trying to get them all on the same page. “I still wake up back in my tent knowing I'll have to get ready for the stupid group trip.”

“We're the only ones doing whatever it is we're doing. Maybe that has a hand in it?” Carol offered, eyes watching the scenery pass by.

Carl leaned forward, putting himself between the front seats once they were out of sight of the quarry camp, “If that's true, then we might have to wait for Dad to wake up, too.”

“Wake up?” Daryl questioned, his thumb moving from his mouth so he wouldn't mumble over his words.

“That's all I can think of to call it,” Carl shrugged. “We keep waking up here and not where we should be. When we should be. It's just here. Over and over again. The last place I remember falling asleep was inside the house in Alexandria. But I haven't woken up there, yet.”

“That's the last place I remember falling asleep, too,” Glenn admitted and Carol and Daryl both nodded along. Daryl giving a grunt since he was in the back and not easily seen. Glenn licked his lips, then gave his own nod, “'Waking up' it is. Any idea how to figure out if Rick's woken up?”

Carol sighed and shook her head, “It took me at least twenty times before I realized anyone else was awake. And only because you did something different. I think that's the only way.”

“Dad calls on the CB while we're out,” Carl offered. “Carol and I have tried getting Shane and the others to send a car out to meet him while you're out with the group, but they never agree to it.”

“Well, hell, why don't we just wait for him on the highway then,” Daryl said, leaning forward and pushing Carl's shoulder good-naturedly. “If he's awake, we'll know it when we meet up with him. If he's not, we just keep doing what we did today until he is. And once he is, we figure out a plan.”

 


	7. Rick

Rick woke up last.

He woke up in the house with Morgan and Duane after a terrifying night of hoping the walkers didn't see or hear them. Of having to be far too silent and holding his breath at every little noise. He woke up with the plan to hit the station and clear out some of the guns. He woke feeling like he couldn't change anything.

Rick relived that day over and over again. Leading his friend and the young boy into the station, sharing a blessedly hot shower with them, and getting them armed. He said goodbye to them and dealt with the walker who used to be a fellow deputy. He didn't always put a bullet into him. Sometimes he used his knife. Sometimes he begged Morgan to follow him. Morgan never did.

He always ended up leaving for Atlanta, though. He always ran out of gas and had to get that horse. He always rode it into town. And he always got saved by Glenn while he sat inside that stupid tank. He didn't care about the horse anymore. It meant he got away. It meant he ran into Glenn and T-Dog and Andrea and Jacqui and Morales and even Merle.

There were days he did whatever he could to save Merle. And there were days he just straight up shot him in the head. Those days never went very well after that. But no one questioned his plans. They just acted like they'd traded one terrible would-be leader for another. It as also those days that he had the satisfaction of shooting Shane as soon as he got back to camp. No hesitation, just his gun out and a bullet through the head. His voice holding no remorse as he said, “That's for fucking my wife.”

Those days didn't usually end well. Lori didn't want to go near him and Carl looked at him like he was a monster he didn't know. And it was probably true. Some days he was a monster.

But some days he remembered how to be human.

And those days always ended wonderfully. Lori alive and loving him. Merle on the roof and sometimes not. Carl happy with him. Shane struggling with guilt and genuine relief at the miracle of his return.

He couldn't remember how many times it repeated until something changed. Lost count like he had lost count of the lives he'd taken. It didn't matter, of course. Except it did. Somewhere in his head he knew it mattered. That how many times he was human verses how many times he was a monster made a difference. Somewhere, somehow it did. The more human he was, the more things seemed to go well for him. Like his subconscious was willing him to be the man he used to be. To not lose faith in the inherent goodness of man.

It was after he hadn't killed Merle for a while that his trip down the 85 into Atlanta was stopped by a station wagon in the middle of the road. It was empty the first time. And the second. And he ignored it, though he did look back in curiosity as he made his way to that tank and Glenn's voice calling him a dumbass.

But the third time, the third time he swore he heard Carl's voice calling out to him. Laughing as it got closer, like he was running to him. Only he wasn't there. It was just the station wagon and an empty road.

The next time it happened it was Glenn he heard. Calling him a dumbass again. An echo of their first meeting. Carol's voice came after, asking him if he remembered her.

“Yeah,” he said, tired and not sure if he wanted to hear the echoes of ghosts he'd still see later. “Yeah, I remember you.”

But she wasn't there. Not really. And he went on to Atlanta and that tank and the rooftop where he cuffed Merle. This time, though, he thought of Glenn and Carol. Like they were waiting for him to lead them on. And he gave Andrea the key instead of T-Dog. Told T get to the door with Jacqui and Morales. Told Andrea to wait until she heard the sirens pulling the geeks' attention. They didn't wait until the rain was breaking over them. They just did it right then and there. Got out before they had to worry about the walkers catching their scent. Merle made it, still tweeked out, but he got back to camp and hunkered down in his camp while he sobered up.

Rick started to do that more often. He noticed that the more he did it, the more likely he was to hear one of their voices. Daryl's the least. But it was Daryl who's face he saw first. Faded out with the station wagon visible through his body while he smiled his welcome to Rick.

Carl was next, running to meet him as he sat on his horse. He saw his own ghost tumbling out of the saddle to greet his son in tears. Carl introduced him to Daryl and Carol and Glenn. And was disappointed when his ghost didn't remember them.

“But I do remember you,” he muttered. Then he screamed it. Then he cried, sobbing as he curled in on himself. The ghosts kept haunting him and all he could do was keep on going. Keep on meeting them on that roof top. Keep on trying to save them all.


	8. No Longer Ghosts

The day he could feel his son's arms around him on that sun-scorched stretch of highway was the happiest day of his life. It wasn't the first time he'd followed his own ghost down. But it was the first day he'd been able to feel anything. And when he did it was like something just snapped into place. The world lined up and suddenly the others weren't ghosts anymore. He wasn't a ghost. They were real and he was real and he could finally nod and sob and tell them yes, he knew them. He knew them all.

They were on him in seconds. Arms wrapped around him and he was holding them back. His brothers, his sister, his son. _His family_. They were there and they'd been waiting for him.

“Bout time you woke up,” Daryl laughed as he pulled back so he wasn't crowding Rick. But he hung close. So close just a shift in their feet had shoulders and arms brushing. Glenn was the same way. Carol, too. Carl was the only one that kept hold of him, his arms around his waist.

“Woke up?” Rick asked, blinking at him.

“That's what we've been calling it,” Glenn filled in. “We all went to sleep in Alexandria, but we keep waking up back in the quarry camp. Just before sunrise. Same day, every time. We started figuring out that others were waking up, too, when one of us would do something different. It took a while for all of us to wake up and be awake on the same day. But for, what? The last twenty or so times? We've all been awake and waiting here for you.”

“We figured of all of us, you were the only other one who might wake up,” Carol explained, reaching out to fuss with Rick's hair as Rick dropped his had onto Carl's head. It was Carl's hat now. Had been for ages. “Since we're the only ones to make to Alexandria.”

Rick nodded along, his hands on Carl's shoulders as he looked out over Atlanta. That made sense. As much sense as any of this made. “I kept seeing you as ghosts,” he said, voice distant. “Kept seeing myself as a ghost. Stopping to grab you and greet you. Saw the car first. Empty. Then you started to fill in. The more I repeated the same things here, the more you filled in.”

“What did you repeat?” Glenn asked, shifting on his feet as Daryl moved around them to grab the reins of the horse and move it back toward the station wagon.

“Just... stuff...” Rick muttered. All four of them gave him a look and sighed loudly. “Saving Merle mostly. Making sure he got out and we didn't waste time checking the sewer before getting the car.”

“We did that, too,” Daryl said, smiling at him. “Before all of us woke up. Glenn an' me would make sure Merle either didn't go or got back. Carol an' Glenn did the same. If it was just me awake or me and Carl, I'd go. Keep my brother in line.”

Carl smirked up at his dad, “If it was just me, or me and Carol, sometimes I'd try to kidnap Glenn and make it back before Merle cut his hand off.”

“You kidnapped Glenn?” Rick couldn't help the laugh before he looked over at the Asian man, “Really? You let a twelve year old kidnap you?”

Glenn was laughing with him and gave a shrug, reaching out to lightly push at Carl's shoulder, “He's a very capable twelve year old. One with the mind of an even more capable fourteen year old.”

“Amen to that,” Daryl murmured before pointing at the horse. “We should get 'em somewhere a little more shady and figure out what we're gonna do.”

“We've been waiting for you so we could work a plan out,” Carol said and moved off toward the car. “Before this, we usually just took you straight back to the quarry. Skipped the city trip altogether. But now that you're awake, we should probably get what supplies we can. In case whatever we do today holds through to tomorrow.”

Rick followed with his hand in Carl's as he answered Daryl's unspoken question about riding the horse. Daryl could handle it while Rick got a ride. “What if we wake up again tomorrow?”

“We'll do it again until we can figure out what the trigger is. We know saving Merle is important, though,” Glenn answered. He was no longer bitter about it. Merle had proven himself over and over to be a good enough man to protect Sophia and Carol from Ed. He just had to be approached right. And maybe, if they changed things enough, he might wake up in a world where Merle had never tied him to a chair, beat him bloody, and sent a walker after him while laughing his ass off. “Telling off Ed, too.”

“Protecting our family,” Rick said softly, brows furrowed. “The more times I saved Merle, the more times I could hear you. Maybe meeting here and getting back to camp together will be enough.”

“Maybe. And if it is, we should definitely get those supplies. We'll need them for the trip the the farm,” Glenn said as he pulled the car into drive. He leaned out the window and called to Daryl, “Meet us back at the park entrance.” It went without saying that Rick could handle the in and out.

They all held hope that the next morning they'd wake up in camp together. Or back in Alexandria.

They didn't.

The day started over as it had been.

At least this time, though, they all knew they were going to be awake together.


	9. Morgan

It took them what they figured must be two months to work out all the variables. Maybe a little more. Each day they repeated the parts they knew worked and discussed something else to change the next time around. It was slow going, but eventually they narrowed it down to Morgan and Duane.

They killed a lot of people to narrow it down. Because those were the variables that seemed to count: who survived and who didn't. Trial and error taught them that when one of those they - one of the five of them - cared about died, not all of them would wake up in the same 'frame'. Only when they'd made sure everyone in the quarry camp lived through the day, safe and sound, did they realign.

The only ones they couldn't easily test it on were Morgan and Duane. They needed to get the two to the quarry. But no matter how much Rick pleaded and tried to get Morgan to come with him, some days staying there instead of meeting up with the quarry camp, Morgan refused. He was a man of conviction who couldn't bring himself to kill his wife's corpse. And he couldn't leave until it was done. If Rick did it for him, Morgan broke down. He couldn't be moved and Duane screamed at him to leave no matter how many walkers the noise enticed.

Eventually the decided that they'd have to come to Rick instead of Rick coming to them. It was the only plan they hadn't yet tried. But it would take time to work out the logistics. How much gas they'd need to siphon for the car, how much food to bring for a hopeful return trip, planned stops to keep siphoning gas. It would take a few tries.

Once the plan was decided on Rick stopped leaving Morgan and Duane. His part was no longer to come to Atlanta. His part was to get the guns from the station – all of them – and go back to his neighbor's house with his friend to wait for pickup. He couldn't tell Morgan that. Morgan would have thought him crazy. So he told him he had little to no real leads on his family's whereabouts. It would be better for him to stay with those he knew were alive than to go looking and possibly get himself killed. Safety in numbers. Morgan didn't question the sense of that. Not after the night they shared and Rick waking up like that. Rick needed time the way Morgan did.

The group got into town on the fifth attempt, half-way through the day. Sophia was with Merle and the quarry camp thought Glenn, Daryl, and Carol had gone into the city for supplies. Carl was missing so everyone was in a tizzy. Merle was the only one that didn't get questioned a dozen times over. He'd been clearly in view of everyone, showing Sophia how to skin squirrels.

Daryl was driving when they pulled up on the street. Duane was the one that spotted them, though. He ran and got his dad and Rick followed Morgan to the upper floor window to watch. When Morgan raised his rifle, Rick was quick to put his hand on it, “No. They're friends. The kid, there. That's my son.”

Morgan was clearly surprised, but he did lower his gun. At least until he spotted the first walker, “They're bringing trouble.”

“Don't worry about it, they got this,” Rick put his hand out once more. “Trust me on it.”

Morgan eyed him like he was crazy, but Rick nodded his head and said quietly, “Just watch.”

So Morgan did. Nervous and with an itchy trigger finger, he watched.

The four of them noticed the walkers immediately but they were far from quick to lay down fire on them. They knew how much time they had to do other things before they had to act. Glenn was the first to walk out and meet the nearest geek. It grabbed at him and he ducked under it's arms to hold it by the neck and bury his knife into the back of it's head. He let it's weight pull it off his blade before he moved to the next closest.

Carol had the hatch back open by then, carefully moving their supplies around to make sure there was room for three more. Carl had climbed on the roof of the car, his gun held at the ready. A silencer had been found on the way up. It had been considered a necessary detour and they'd spent an entire day of their test run just searching for it on the edge of town, hitting all the places that might have extra guns until they knew which one to hit the next time around.

Daryl held his crossbow at the ready and finally shot one of the bastards as it came down the street on the opposite end of where Glenn was quietly and calmly going after his targets one by one. The bolt hit through the mouth and Daryl set it down to reload. As casually as any by your leave.

Morgan and Duane stood there, silently impressed. Right up until _she_ appeared. Duane let out a gasp and wrapped his arms around his father's waist, burying his head in his side. Morgan couldn't do much more than hold him tight.

“I should do it,” he murmured, nearly choking on his words.

“You don't have to,” Rick answered, putting his hand on his friend's shoulder.

“It should be me,” Morgan insisted.

Rick shook his head, but if Morgan needed to do it, he needed to do it. He leaned out the window and whistled. Daryl, Carl, and Carol all stopped and looked up at him. He waited until Glenn backed off his current walker and put enough space between it and himself to look up. Rick spun his hand to tell them to close ranks. The hatchback got shut securely and all four of them retreated to the porch. Rick took the steps two at a time and flung the door open just as Carl lifted his gun to fire at an oncoming walker. Once they were safely inside, the door was shut and a heavy shelf moved in front of it with that quiet teamwork they were all used to.

They moved back and took up positions, ready to hit any walker that might break through. Morgan watched them in confusion and slight awe. They moved so cleanly and he had to question if Rick really did just wake up from a coma.

The group sat there in silence like that for hours. The day bleeding away into evening as the walkers outside started to give up and go away. The lack of sound and movement allowing them to be distracted by birds flying over head and a few stray dogs racing down the street. By the time night was on them, the group felt safe enough to start pulling out food from the backpacks they had and talking softly.

“Hey,” Carl greeted Duane with a smile. “I saw your comics earlier. Can I read some?”

Duane looked to his father for permission and when Morgan nodded, he and Carl curled up next to each other to have a quiet conversation amongst themselves.

“How'd you know we were here?” Morgan finally asked. It was the only really pressing question he had.

Carol was the one that answered. She was the best liar of the group. “We didn't. Well, not for sure.”

Morgan gave her an obvious look of disbelief and she just continued on.

“We've been checking the hospital once a week for the last month. To see if he was awake and make sure the IV was full if he wasn't. Carl here told us about him. His mom doesn't believe Rick's alive – sorry Rick.” And to both Carol and Rick's credit they were able to look suitably, respectively, apologetic and hearbroken over that statement. “But Carl wasn't giving up. Glenn, Daryl, and I, we're the only ones that really believed him. Daryl's the one that usually comes up. He hunts for the survivor camp we're set up with and no one questions him being gone for a few days at a time. But it's been getting more difficult with the walkers leaving the city. The last run up here he nearly didn't come back from.”

Daryl nodded to Morgan, as if agreeing with the statement, but remained otherwise silent as he chewed on a thumb and let his eyes drift back toward the windows. Ever alert for walkers.

“Glenn's our best scavenger,” Carol went on, nodding at the man who smiled and waved. “And I'm pretty decent with a knife. But my best skills are in rationing provisions. So we all got together and came up this time. Carl was supposed to stay at camp, but he snuck into the car and we didn't know he was in there until he started complaining about a bathroom break three hours into the drive.”

“Too late to turn back,” Glenn shrugged, rolling his eyes with a light laugh. This part was true enough that he didn't feel awkward adding to the story. He looked over at Carl and then at Rick, “Lori's going to kill us when we get back, you know.”

Rick could only chuckled, “I'm okay with that. It means I'll live long enough to see her again.”

Morgan visibly relaxed by that point. The story was plausible. Odd, out there, but it was more believable than Rick having survived a coma in a hospital that had no power for almost two months. Someone coming up and keeping him alive, that made sense.

Carol had moved on to start packing up what supplies they'd pulled out for the meal, “Anyway, when we came up today and checked, he wasn't in his room. We didn't find him on the hospital grounds, and we checked a couple floors. He wasn't there and Carl said he might go home. Obviously he'd be disorientated and confused. So Glenn and Daryl checked it, but Daryl said he saw signs of a recent scuffle in the yard and drag lines for a body. We followed that here and here you are!” She make a happy noise, shoulders squeezing together and up for a second before reaching over and putting her hand on Rick's forearm, rubbing it for a moment before letting go again.

Morgan snorted and shook his head, “That's... that's quite a lot. You are a very lucky man, Rick.”

“I know,” Rick said, his own eyes falling to Carl, who was still going through the comics with Duane. Both of them quietly animated as they shared an intense discussion of whatever story was being told.

“You should leave with us in the morning,” Glenn murmured, broaching the topic that needed addressing. “Come to the quarry camp. You and your son will be safe.”

But Morgan shook his head, “Can't. I have something I need to do first.”

Rick licked his lips and looked down at his hands, “Then you should do it tonight. It's not safe for you two to stay here.” His friend kept shaking his head and Rick's voice went low, “Please, Morgan. For Duane.”

Duane looked up from his comics, eyeing Rick first, then his father. He bit as his lip before whispering, “Please Dad? Can't we go with them? They have more food and more people. I don't like sleeping here.”

Morgan's eyes shut and he swallowed the bile rising in his throat. Rick stood up and came to him, putting a hand on his shoulder so he could lean in and speak in a quiet, firm tone, “You can do this. But it needs to be tonight. It needs to be now. For both you and Duane.”

He held his own rifle out, the silencer already on it, traded out earlier by Carl. Morgan eyed it for a long time before his hand slowly closed around it.


	10. Together

Rick stretched his legs as best he could in the cramped space and let himself indulge in a lazy yawn. His eyes blinked open slowly to see Michonne smiling over at him as she knelt down to take Judith from Carl's arms. His son stirred, but when he saw who it was, he quickly settled back to sleep. Michonne put one finger to her mouth and then nodded her head toward the kitchen. Rick smiled back and gave her a nod of his own.

He took his time getting up after she left. Just enjoyed the sight of his family sprawled all over each other and tucked in tightly in the living room of the house. Only a few of them were blood, but they were all family. Some had been family since Atlanta and some since just before they left Georgia. But family all the same. His brothers and sisters, sons and daughters.

As Rick stood, he turned to glance at the man on watch. He stood leaning against the door, one finger in the blinds to tip them toward him just enough that he could see out. Paranoia from a difficult life on the road for the last two years made it hard to trust the safety of Alexandria too easily, but that didn't mean they wouldn't try. It was just difficult to break habits. The man realized he was being looked to and glanced Rick's way. He smirked and shook his head before returning his attention where it needed to be. Rick was nodding even as he turned to head to the kitchen. Merle was their best watchman. His sniper training in the army combined with Daryl's influence had made sure of that.

He had to step over several people, but he got there. Tired. Mind fuzzy. But there. Enough to smile at his daughter's happy burble as Michonne held the bottle to her mouth. Rick watched the two in comfortable silence for a while until something needled the back of his mind enough for him to sigh.

“I know that look,” she murmured, one eyebrow raised. “What's on your mind?”

Rick shook his head, then straightened up with another stretch before leaning himself against a wall. His eyes went over the people crowded in the living room. The events of the last two years were fuzzy in his mind for some reason and he felt like he was fighting to see through a fog. It was probably exhaustion. He shrugged, “Just trying to remember how we got here.”

Michonne laughed, a sound that accidentally disturbed a few sleepers. Lori was one of them. She went from asleep to alert within moments of realizing her daughter wasn't with her son. Rick caught her eye before she could panic and wake Shane, pointing to the side. Michonne took the hint and moved herself into view, Judith on her hip with the bottle planted firmly in the girl's mouth. Rick saw Lori relax, then she smiled and shifted so she could cuddle up to Shane more comfortably.

The sight no longer caused Rick pain. Hadn't for a long time and while he used to be able to pinpoint why, for some reason his head was feeling hazy that morning and he couldn't quite think of the moment anymore. There had been one, though.

“Guess it doesn't matter,” he muttered to himself, fighting another yawn.

“It does,” Michonne murmured, keeping her voice low. She tilted her head as his eyes met hers. “It does matter how we got here.” She paused as she realized his mind was elsewhere, just to give him time to get back on the same page. “We got here together.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end.  
> I like this story and am planning to do a squeal (of sorts) that goes into the changes to their lives after they made it back to camp with Morgan and Duane and use their knowledge of what's to come to make things go their way.  
> Thank you for reading.


End file.
